Orbits
by Haraya
Summary: Draw a circle, there's the world. Bite-sized Hetalia drabbles. Pairing search categories will be based on the two latest stories. Latest story: iv. SpaBel/Spain x Belgium (SnK crossover) - "Dear Nan... You couldn't answer back. I'm still getting used to the idea."
1. germany x nyo england

SABI KO WALA KANG BUBUKSAN SA BIRTHDAY MO – _HINDI KO SINABING WALA KANG BUBUKSAN THE DAY AFTER!_ Guaranteed one story a day hanggang sa maubos natin ang 15 WHOOOOOOO!?

Pairing, and duos, trios, groups and family preferences are my sister's, not mine. The crack is strong in this one so you might not want to go any further if that ain't yer cup of tea. Otherwise, enjoy!

* * *

**i. germany and nyo england**

"… because apparently, you aren't someone mature enough to be respected if you like wearing your hair in pigtails and don't know how to cook and host tea parties and go bippity-boppity-boo for fun like in my stupid little sister's take on your fairy tale." England took a long swig of beer and _nearly _slammed her tankard down on the bar. "Fucking gits."

She wasn't drunk yet, but was miles away from sober. Germany had long forgotten who found who at the bar and who agreed to whose proposal that they drank the night away together but he didn't mind. It felt okay, sitting next to the woman beside him, her long gold locks rippling down her back for a change and her useless pair of spectacles placed between their drinks. He'd been unguarded enough to ask her why she wore them in the first place when she'd lasted a good half an hour with them down on the table, launching her into a lengthy, whiny monologue long enough to take his focus away from her words and into noticing how _pleasant _she looked the way she did right now – angry and bothered and slightly sad and just… _pleasant_.

He wondered if he was already in the same state of pre-drunkenness as she was or if it was the alcohol-boosted, ultimately unavoidable effect of prolonged exposure to that constant stormy aura she radiated which he'd always oddly find so soothing.

In mere moments, he confirmed it was the former. "Do you want me to help you?"

He didn't know he said the words out loud – didn't even know he had been thinking them up – until she raised an eyebrow at him. "What?"

"What?"

"Don't you 'what' me, boy. You were asking me something earlier."

"I… asked you something?"

"See?" she spat all of a sudden, eyes narrowing. Twin circles a shade he'd always associated with the end of a long, hard winter since the moment first saw them watered slightly at the edges. "_See? _I opened up that much to you because I thought you'd take me seriously, but it turns out you think I'm a child too, you damn Kraut-! "

"I was going to ask you if you wanted help on making them respect you-" Germany stopped himself before that sentence turned into an exclamation (because, duh, Germany did _not_ exclaim!).

He thought it must have been relief he felt when England blinked up at him. "R-really?" Her tone was adorably childish – endearingly so.

"Yes. If you want to. I mean – I'll make it clear, I have no plans on bullying anyone for you." (_Not _even_ for you_, a voice that sounded strangely like his brother's supplies his mind) "But if you need help on being confident and not letting what anyone else says get to your head – well, there's no need for you to wear glasses to look older and pretend to be someone you're not. If you want me – to help you."

He frowned slightly. Since when did he start stuttering in front of a woman? Since when did he start stuttering in front of _anyone_? He violently shuts the rough, sing-songy voice in his head up before it gets the chance to say anything.

Her expression was unreadable "And," she proceeded with caution, poking and pulling on the rim of her glass with an elegant finger. "what do you want in exchange?"

"Nothing." And before he could stop himself from thinking: _Time spent with you_

Something not from this world sparked in her eyes for a moment and, so faintly it could have been a trick of light, the very roots of her hair prickled. Germany for a split-second could have believed anyone who told him that for the tiniest possible sliver of time, his mind was a Harry Potter book, or one of Shakespeare's sonnets, or a Marianas Trench of thoughts that could never be put to words no matter what effort was put into making it possible.

He blinked and there was nothing but England staring with her lips apart at something above his eyes. Germany tried to convince himself nothing _magical _happened in the last second (or eternity – time always seemed to be wider with her around) and that the color in his companion's cheeks came from the alcohol.

Somehow, he found himself thinking he was never going to see her in her glasses again. "Alright," Alice muttered, eyes finally meeting his (this time, he was sure she hadn't drunk enough to have cheeks _that_ red and this, inexplicably, pleases him). "Teach me."

_fin_

* * *

In case you didn't get it, Alice only wears glasses here so that she looks more mature so that people would take her more seriously. She's comfortable around Germany enough to spill to him that her vision's a perfect 20/20 and Germany, concerned with how she's practically lying to herself, suggests in his signature way that she should totally drop it because she's gorgeous without them. Yeah.


	2. denmark x belarus (high school au)

CRACK PA MORE WHOOOOO

**ii. denmark x belarus (high school au)**

He doodles her face and her name, then his face next to hers and he crosses out the surname she shares with her two siblings and writes his down, then he makes hearts out of flowers around them and it, or flowers out hearts – on his textbooks, his notebooks, though never on his table; he sketches it on that art whatevs program on his phone at gym and he's been hit on the head a little too harshly by six different teachers of six different subjects with six different class records for it. In just one day.

If _that _wan't love, then he doesn't know what it is.

"Why don't you just talk to her?" Berld had suggested out of the blue one day.

"Bless my that-axe-shaped-guitar-on-that-shiny-store-window-display-we-first-passed-by-when-we-were-kids-in-the-old-country-that-I've-been-wanting-since-I-first-saw-it-craving soul," he gasped, "The Swede is giving me love advice. The world is about to end!"

"Pshh," scoffed Emi, "You're brave enough to present your totally fake ID at security guarded groceries so you could get _real _drinks for us, but not enough to approach her?"

"Emi," he snarled with shut lips, "you know the rules, if anybody overhears _you _on _that_ and reports me to the police, whether I go to court and jail or not, I am _forcing _you to call your brother what he deserves to be called for every day of your life-"

"Eduard's friend, Toris, likes her too," Little Tino informed him. "But he just stays on the sidelines as well. Her older brother's really-" He stopped, shoulders hitched high.

"What?" he asked, jesting, "he's not gonna force vodka down my throat till I can't breathe or anything like that just for checking her out, right?"

They just stared at him – except Berld: that bastard was afraid of nothing, except maybe cutesy things like spiders – and their faces said unless he stopped so obviously crushing on the current apple of his eye, he was seriously, deeply, screwed. "Good luck, Anko," said his ole' Lukey, squeezing his shoulder with a tone bursting at the seams with sincerity.

So he keeps doodling her face and her name, then his face next to hers and he crosses out the surname she shares with her two siblings and writes his down, then he makes hearts out of flowers around them and it, or flowers out hearts – in his mind, because it just wasn't safe anymore, and he still gets hit on the head a little too harshly by six different teachers of six different subjects with six different class records for staring into the space that he adorns with _her_.

Every single day in school.

In the particular high school level he was currently in, it was a one-size-fits-all affair – at least that's what it felt like, because there are two Asian dudes in the room down by the east wing of their floor at least three years older than the oldest student of the highest level, and the youngest person in his section and the whole school in general is gifted and just turned _twelve_,and she sits next to her big brother who in turn has just the right amount of intellect for his age.

Natalya Braginskaya was like that. Fourteen and in senior high and already a bet for the 2020 Olympics in gymnastics. He had seen her practice once and when she undid her sweaty bun and those gorgeous silvery blond strings looking like the epitome of misery exploded over her face, he decided that he was over and done for.

But she sat close to her siblings at class though they shared the same room, sat even closer to them during breaks and was never to be seen walking around the halls without one of them or the three boys she shared with her siblings as friends.

_Appointed bodyguards, _he decided on That Day when her brother was absent from the flu, when he marched right up to the really, _really _small guy waiting for her out the lady's room and said that he had seen his lady friend do what she does best and that he thought she was amazing and that he'd been watching her for a while now and he thought she was someone he'd like to know better and could you ask her when she comes out if she'd like to be friends with him? Like, he would definitely ask _her _and not him, but since she's always surrounded by people… maybe she's just a little shy or something? He didn't want to be too forward but it's just that… yeah, do you think she'd be okay with lunch together later? The little guy can come too if he like, _his_ treat.

Somehow, the not even 5 ft. boy who's face showcased a weird amount of wisdom and experience for – what, 13 years? 12? Anyway, he starts stuttering apologies and he clearly has some issues the way he's fidgeting about, but his phone rings and the timing is so damn eerie and it seemed to him that they both knew perfectly well who's calling to check on his youngest sister, so _he_ dashes the hell away before she could come out of the toilet.

The short kid quite obviously never told her anything but it was also obvious, when her brother came back a week later, that he didn't tell _on him_ either. Bad, but also good.

But mostly bad, he decided, when he'd talked to her sister, the oldest of the three, who explained that they'd went through some rough times at so young an age and survived and were much better now, but Ee-_vahn _suffered the most from it all, the poor, sensitive soul, so it was only natural of him to be so protective of his family, bless him, he loves us so much it overwhelms me sometimes but he means well and oh, I just wish he could just stop worrying and be happy, God knows he deserves it.

She was pretty even though her expression had been flustered the whole time they were talking, and never once did she mention anything about her much prettier sister.

He didn't know the password to her locker and he was afraid of someone else finding the notes he planned to leave in her desk. So he tries passing her by even when she's with someone in the hallways, tries lining up next to her in the cafeteria, tries getting close enough to wave her hi and bye through the entry and exit doors at in and out times.

For two months, she's never even looked his way.

So he thanks God winter vacation is on the way, blows a lot of cash on not one, not two, but three cases of Carlson ("to be shared equally between us guys – the damned exams are over!" but he ends up finishing two), and he liquid erases the scribbles on his books and tears off the pages of his notebook he'd decorated with her, crumples it, then tosses it in the air with no cares as he left with his mates on the last day of classes, trying to convince himself that he wanted to twist his neck about because it was stiff and not because he wanted to have one last (_God, please, no_) look at someone.

The papers hit a white ribbon atop a blonde head.

…

When she feels her voice has run out from squealing into her pillow, she looks at the crumpled pages, now more crumpled than ever, groans, then smiles again. She rushes to her desk, takes out her best pen, smooths the sheets over the surface the very best she can, and sits down – her writing _mustn't_ be jumping all over the place.

She will fold them up neatly later on, small squares full of shy, steady promises because _damn_, he looked good and was nice and funny though she'd been too shy to respond to his proposals to conversations or strike up one herself. She will have one of her friends deliver them to him – or maybe she should do it herself then make a run for it and hide under the covers and regret till she gets over it and becomes ready to face his answer – but first she must sign the faux future marriage certificates before her, over the letters that spell: _Natalya Kohler._

_fin_

_Matthias Kholer_ is a fan name for Denmark which is Rin's favorite. I have a feeling Denmark likes giving nicknames to people he's close to so he shortens _Berwald Oxisternia _(Sweden) to _Berld_, _Emil_ (one of Himapapa's candidate names for Iceland) into _Emi_, calls _Tino Vainamonen_ (Finland) Little Tino, and turns _Lukas Bondevik _(also just a candidate name for Norway) into _Lukey_. _Natalia _is a candidate name for Belarus, which I spelled in its Russian form here.

Japanese secondary education is divided into two parts: Junior and Senior High. Each take up three years and kids usually begin at 13 and finish 18. Here they are at the first year of Senior High at an international school in Japan.

The "six different teachers" are supposed to Ancient Rome and Company.

Carlson is a brand of Danish beer.


	3. portugal x taiwan (pokemon crossover)

**ii portugal x taiwan (pokemon au)**

When he was seven, his Sneasel dug him a picture from beneath their favorite tree. When he was sure it wasn't stolen, he decided to keep it. It depicted a young girl, maybe only five, and it was pretty much the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen so when they got home, he took out a pen and wrote on the blank space behind with a childish, still slightly shaking hand – _Formosa_.

…

When he was ten, he realized he was in love with the little girl in his picture and would spend much time wondering what she would look like if she was older – still beautiful, surely. He ended up inventing a personality for her of everything he found desirable in a friend – curious like he was, and playful, and strong-willed. Of course she'd love Pokemon too and they'd go on their journeys together.

After his Sneasel and his neighbor Antonio, she was the bestest friend he'd ever had.

…

He left home at thirteen with only his Sneasel as his companion and firm promises to write home as much as he could.

He doesn't journey with his best friend because they were rivals and the agreement was this: whoever recorded all the Pokemon in the world in their Pokedex _second_ would have to live with the knowledge for the rest of his life.

So he catches wild Pokemon and battles with other trainers and fails then wins at Gyms and, without knowing exactly how it happened, crushes the largest unknown underground criminal corporation that specialized in Pokemon cruelty side by side with Antonio. They are both featured in the news and they go through interviews in awkward shyness and when most of the buzz had died down, they go home, arm in arm and together.

…

In a week, he was on the road once more and in the first unfamiliar grassy place he encounters, he finds her.

She should be one year shy of being a Trainer herself though she was tiny. Her stance told him she loved Pokemon but so far only the abandoned ones that needed loving therapy in shelters she's volunteered in, and anxious soon-to-be-mothers that needed comfort, and their eggs that needed just as much care, and the babies they produced in Pokecenters and daycares. Certainly not a perfectly wild Aipom circling her from the trees, the fear for its life so obvious that its threats of attacking were hardly intimidating, but surely overwhelming for someone like her.

So he grabs her hand (_soft and smooth and small like it was made for him_) and pulls her away as it pounced, then he catches if for her with the help of his Sneasel. He explains that Pokemon are friends and not creatures to be afraid of; she tells him she knew that already and had just been caught unawares, that was all. She said it like she was ashamed of herself so he told her she shouldn't feel that way and that he had been frightened of his Sneasel, Nyura, the first time they met too, but now they were the best of friends.

The dark brown eyes that stared admiringly up at him made something inside his chest twitch.

When he saw to it she got home to his four older brothers safely and agreed to her proposal to meet again someday when she was a Trainer and battle, he looks for an Aipom of his own in the forest with Nyura then, unsuccessful, rests for the night in an inn.

He looks at the picture like he always does when he feels something's… not wrong, but not usual either. When he was calm enough again, he learned he had half the mind to just get rid of it already, because at last he's found something even more beautiful than the face it sheltered. But he remembers it came from the same tree that had led him to his Sneasel, his best friend and current rival, and that for a few years in his mind, he and the girl had actually been friends.

So he keeps the picture. He keeps his old imaginary friend, Formosa, with him.

…

Her name is Mei and they meet again in two years.

She understands Pokemon better than he does and he very nearly loses to her. That was remarkable considering he'd been a Trainer for three years and she just for one, but the way he figured it, she had been a Trainer all her life. He couldn't really analyze that thought at the moment, though.

He's sixteen, she's fourteen, and her heart is as pretty as her face. After leaving the Pokecenter, they lounge at the park where their they let their pets play. She tells him she'd name the Aipom he got her Etaro (sort of like Enrico which is _kinda _close to his name, but she had help from her favorite brother, who is an otaku, in the naming, so Etaro), that she was traveling around the world to experience the wonders and study the different institutions that care for Pokemon, that when she had her fill and came home, she would put up a Pokemon hospice, which no one's ever done before.

He tells her he thinks it's brilliant, letting her Wurmple lick icecream from his finger on his lap. She reddens and beams at him, and he knew it wouldn't be the last time they would see each other.

…

They make it a point to call up once a month, meet once a year. She's 17 when her brothers made clear that they were getting suspicious but they both countered by making it equally clear there was nothing to get suspicious over.

"Whadya think, old friend?" he asked his favorite picture after asking his best friend's opinion over video chat. "Should I confirm their suspicions, or…?

Formosa grins at him, still five and innocent. Her smile reminds him of Antonio's when he exclaimed "Of course!"

…

Her youngest brother was, like, perfectly cool with them being a thing, the next said it was fine as long as he did nothing that would cause for him (her brother) to teach _him _(himself) a painful lesson – _da-ze!_ – and the eldest two might as well have brought swords with them when he confronted them, her whole family, about it. They examined the Pokemon he had with him at that time – Nyura, an Eevee and a Ralts – and when they saw they were well-cared for and happy being his, they accepted. If that was how he treated beings that couldn't do the same for him, then maybe – _only_ maybe, mind you – he had a chance at getting their sister.

…

He never really got to finish his Pokemon quest – more and more breeds keep popping up each year anyway, it would be a never-ending chase to the end of the planet's days – but that was okay. He had _her_.

After two major fights and two equally major reconciliations within five years, they get married.

…

"Henrique, what does 'formosa' mean?" she asks him one day.

He thought about it. "It means you in my mother tongue."

"Eh?"

"Beautiful."

"Aww, that's so sweet!" She kisses his cheek.

They were wrapped in blankets in a winter's night, cuddling with her Cyndaquil and with each other for warmth. They settle to silence and stare at the fire and after a while he says: "When I was little, Nyura found me a picture of a little girl from under a tree in my hometown. I thought she had the most beautiful face in all of the world – I wasn't in love, not yet, but I just thought that that was a fact. _The_ fact. I sucked at my vocabulary then, so I asked my mother what to call little girls like her and she said 'formosa.' I'd written it at the back of her picture."

"Aww, that's so sweet," she repeats. "You said you fell in love with her eventually?"

"Yeah. I was ten, I think. It kinda died down in a couple of years but I still kept her picture. I don't remember what for anymore. She _was _a pretty girl."

"Hmmm," she sighs sleepily.

They keep silent till he thought she was asleep. Then she says "D'ya wanna know why I asked you?"

He looks at her, interested. She smiles for him and holds up a tiny multicolored square. The colors paint a face he once thought was the most beautiful thing there is in the world. His wife shares the child's grin.

"I was curious – you wrote it at the back of the picture I lost when I was five."

_fin_

* * *

When I was a kid and the sole memes, back then in the form of simple short stories, that went around did so through text messages, my favorite older cousin shared with me something she called "A Cute Love Story." I have no idea who made it up – the version she told me is the plainest form of this story and it's remained with me for nine years. The main idea isn't mine.

_Henrique _is my personal Rin-approved name for Portugal. The original I thought up was _Enrico_, but on learning this was actually Spanish, I looked for the Portuguese version.

For more info on Nyura and Etaro and co., check out **anillavicecream** at **_tumblr_** and **mangorealrin** at _**deviantart**_.

Rin – I suck at crossovers. I am sorry. I hope you did not cringe.


	4. spain x belgium (snk crossover)

**iv. spain x belgium (snk crossover)**

Nan,

Well, this is a bit awkward isn't it? For one I could call you whatever I like now – you couldn't contradict me. Don't get me wrong, I think 'Nan' sounds adorable for you because even though you insist you aren't cute, you are and that pet name matches you. For another... you're not here. You couldn't answer back. I'm still getting used to the idea.

Nii-san's captain of the squad now, and he's more shaken than you'd think. He's quieter than ever, and wouldn't look me in the eye. It's too bad that you and Neckel never got to really know each other properly, but I'm sort of glad too, because I don't think he could've stood it if he'd grown too attached to you. And Lovi – well, you really should try to talk to him, and soon. He needs it more than all of us put together.

I'm too numb to talk anymore. I hate you.

* * *

Nan,

Lovi needs your help. Please. After so much rage over you going, he got sick for a week, and now that he's grown so cold and quiet. I'm doing all I can to reach him but I need your help. Even Nii-san's being _nice _to him – I'd laugh at his sweetness if our situation wasn't dire. Some of our new recruits, now the new members of Squad Gilbert – Ludwig, the little brother he never stopped talking about before who's as good as he tells it; Kiku, Yao's younger brother and the genius tactician who saved us all in that last mission; led of course by young Feli, pushing himself to the limits during training everyday because of you – they've been reaching out to him as well. So far I don't think anything's working out.

I still hate you. Please talk to Lovi.

* * *

Nan,

I don't know what to write to you now but it's a day off for us… but Francis has looked over my shoulder while I was writing that phrase. I told him what I was doing and that I couldn't think of what to write so he told me to tell you he misses you, and that he sends you the best of luck where you're going. Also he told me to remind you that he was your first kiss when you were kids and you thought he was a girl – haha, I know you're making that silly face of yours right now, but I guess he likes remembering of you that way.

Anyway, that ridiculous guffaw of his – _hon hon hon_, are you ready to tear your hair out yet? – has attracted Arthur and your brother's attention so they went over to scold him and inspect what the matter is (up to you to guess which agenda was whose) and when they learned what I was doing, they told me to tell you they're sorry for all the past brawls you've had and they hope you're in a much better place now.

On another note, I appreciate Gilbert very much right now; his focus now is on Lovi and Lovi alone. He'd be very aggressive on approaching and talking to Lovi so that once I had to warn him not to be so harsh, but I think his words are working on your underling much better than mine's or anyone else's are. He, Gilbert, is silent towards everyone else (because of you, obviously) except maybe to Gilbird – he's still a weirdo even with a heavy heart.

Everybody misses you. I'd tell you to come back to us if I was sure it would help you change your mind.

* * *

Nan,

We did your Birthday Harvest and Picnic without you. Lovi managed to destroy half your crops some time ago before Alfred, Arthur's little brother, had been able to stop him, but the other half – your half, I'd like to think – survived okay and produced plenty for everyone, and were of good quality too.

I think you would've wanted everyone to be at the picnic instead of just the four of us and Neckel so my brothers and I spent the whole night last night cooking and baking. It was a good feast but Kel was very sad. He'd been looking forward to spending his first BH&amp;P with you. Lovi didn't show up but the boys I've written to you about were so nice, they made it a point to watch after him at home in turns. We're glad he isn't trying to kill himself anymore. Gilbert stayed with him the longest. I wonder what he sees in him to take a liking to him so. Maybe he sees you beyond all those _konoyaro_'s.

I left you the cream of the crop and waffles and cake and churros and tea and wine. Did you get it yet? Don't let your own tomatoes rot!

I can't say goodbye to you just yet.

* * *

Nan,

Please watch over my boys tomorrow.

* * *

Nan,

The first half of the expedition is over and we're resting at _the_ abandoned castle. Feli almost got killed today – Lovi saved him and that sort of started a rage on him. Today he killed _six_ Titans, four of which were _deviants_ – can you believe it? He used to only kill defensively but now he hunts them down, like Ivan does. It scared me, but when I saw he was close to crying too while scolding Feli when we reached a resting point, I was reassured that it was still _Lovi _who was with us.

I'm at the top of our tower now, looking at the stars alone, and I find myself hating Nii-san because if he'd said yes earlier, we could have been married. But mostly I hate you. I _hate_ you, Nan. You didn't have to give me fucking time to fly away back then because I could have been to give all of you that. I hate you.

And I hate myself too because no matter how I try I'll always love you more.

* * *

Nan,

Lizzie lost a foot and most of her hair before we got to get home today. Roderich was furious and killed seven in just one flight without touching down – Gilbert killed eight. They would have killed _each other_ with their bare hands if Ludwig didn't step in; they blamed each other for what had happened but I know they're both secretly glad. Roderich'd been trying to get Lizzie to quit the Legion since their enlistment, and though Gilbert understands her desire to fight for our freedom, I know he's worried sick each expedition over her. She couldn't fight with us anymore; maybe she could help out in her family's restaurant and looms though I'm pretty sure it will take a while before she accepts the idea.

I'm sad for her and Ven is too, but happy. At least I'm sure one of my friends will get to see the ocean if I don't.

* * *

Nan,

We're off on another expedition tomorrow. Yao – he's the new commander now – seems to be in such a hurry to learn more, more, more about the Titans. I wonder if it's got anything to do with the rumors Nii-san had heard floating about that we're about to overthrow the King. Squad Gilbert and Katyusha has disappeared and maybe they're doing just that. No one's allowed to talk about it.

I'm afraid for our friends and the whole Legion. I really wish you were here right now. Watch over my loved ones tomorrow.

* * *

Nan,

Today they found a child inside a Titan's nape. Arthur's Squad and Matthias', especially Berwald and Tino, are investigating and caring for him. He said his name is Peter and right now he's too frightened and confused to talk sense. I don't know much yet, but he seems to not know where he's from and how he ended up inside a Titan and in that specific location too. Most of us refuse to acknowledge the idea that he is innocent but I agree with the Squads caring for him that he is. He is so _young – _younger even than Lili, Basch's little sister. I don't know if you remember when he brought her to HQ on her last birthday but I do. I hope she changes her mind about joining us when she graduates.

Anyway, we're not allowed to discuss what had happened to anyone yet, not even to each other. I won't be surprised if the two Squads I've mentioned disappears with little Peter one day too.

I'm frightened and confused. I miss you.

* * *

Nan,

Today Lovi started crying out of the blue and ran out in the middle of a meeting. I followed him to your old room, where he was hugging that pillow you used to hug in your sleep. I cried with him and held him until we both fell asleep.

I still hate you a lot, you know.

* * *

Nan,

Eduard, Toris and Raivis were executed in a town square in Sina yesterday. The charges were attempted assassination on some royal pig; I do not believe it. I wasn't there, but I know there hadn't been a trial and they were tortured before the sentence was carried out and that none of them had been visibly afraid when they'd been hung. Feliks told me. He's in shock and didn't seem to have cried over it yet. He knows what had happened, but doesn't seem to comprehend it.

He and what remains of his squad came home to HQ today. The deceased's families have apparently gone missing, so we're accommodating Feliks' small family and the youngest Braginsky sibling – she's just a year away from graduating but I think she would be safer around full-fledged warriors 24/7 than in the Academy. None of them said a single word and just went to their rooms. There's still no sign of Gilbert's Squad.

I feel so hurt for them. I miss you hugging me.

* * *

Nan,

The King is dead and the world is in chaos. Titans have appeared all at once inside the Walls; so far fifty have been confirmed. All military branches and the whole Academy is about to rush off to what looks to be our last battle.

Pray for my brothers and friends, pray for Humanity. I wish so badly that I could kiss you one last time.

* * *

Nan,

I lost my brothers today. It should have been me and not them.

Why, Nan?

Why does everything have to hurt?

* * *

Nan,

Yao gave me and Lovi the day off. I spent the whole time in his arms. They aren't as big and strong as yours.

* * *

Nan,

We beat all the Titans in the Walls two days ago (there had been 150 in total, more than any sightings ever recorded in a single expedition). I've lost track of things after…

Out of the Trainees, only a handful of students survived, including Francis' little sister, the youngest Braginsky, Lovi and Feli's brother, Lili, and a girl who claimed to have been Yao and Kiku's only sister's bestfriend (she and her two other Trainee brothers did not make it). Their (Yao and Kiku's) cousin in the Vanguard did though, and we're hoping he wakes up soon. I don't know about the other faction's statistics, but Lizzie's adopted a little orphaned boy who claims he hasn't seen his older brother or his best friend in the military since the battle. I'm hoping he isn't referring to Lizzie's first ex – you know, the guy with the sorta deformed teeth? – and that green-eyed kid who always went with him. I regret having forgotten their names now.

Roderich's impaired for life but he's okay. Matthew, one of the new recruits (you might have forgotten about him already, he's Alfred's quieter twin) is in 50/50 state. Feliks is still missing. Squad Gilbert had joined us for the battle and they're all in one piece. Arthur's squad reappeared too, but the two brothers (the reckless pair in that last expedition you took part of) are gone. Only Arthur would be able to continue on as a soldier, but his three older brothers are alive. Everybody else we know is safe and still a soldier though not exactly unscathed, save for Squad Matthias, which is still fully missing. They hadn't been in the secret hideaway Yao directed me and Lovi to check earlier today, as is Peter and all their documents. I hope they're alright.

Tell everyone you meet that I am sorry when you see them.

* * *

Nan,

I'm pregnant.

* * *

Nan,

Lovi had wanted to stay with me tomorrow to make sure I was okay, but I told him his brothers needed protecting. It is early in the morning as I write this.

The last half year since I've last written to you had been a blur, but somehow Gilbert is now king – he doesn't seem to have a clue as to how that happened either – and tomorrow, he and everybody else who distinctly knows how to use the gear and is able is going to battle with the Ape Titan and his army. Tonight is the last night of a Free Humanity, it's true – things could go either way in a few hours, but until then we could do nothing but wait.

I'm at Roderich's and Lizzie's place. They got married some time ago and she let me stay with them when the size of my stomach started affecting my performance. It's a bit awkward to be frank: she's on crutches, he's in a wheelchair, and I can't exactly be as frisky as I used to be. But she could still care for me when I need it and cook and do the dishes and man the bakery we've set up on crutches; I could still bake and do the chores that don't require bending over and heavy lifting; and he and Anatolie – the orphan boy Lizzie adopted – play piano wherever their talent is required in town (Nat sits on his lap with tiny stilts on his feet and pushes on the pedals, sometimes doing little pieces himself with Roderich's help. Nobody laughs at them – they think it's magical, the ex-soldier and the orphan boy at the height of a loveless war, making beautiful music together.) We get along very well, but sometimes I still turn around to talk to Nii-san and Kel, then I remember they aren't there anymore. Other than that – and other than you – I am happy.

Lovi has been by my side every minute he could spare ever since my condition became apparent and people worked things out. He'd ask me if I needed anything every other minute and panicked over my tiniest discomforts. It's adorable, really – he's so tense around me he wouldn't stop saying "_chigi!_" with every sentence until an exasperated Lizzie scolded him to a stop because the baby might hear him and get his "filthy mouth that needs a good scrubbing down." That made me him shut up and put on the most horrified face I've ever seen and that made me laugh. And when he learned that the one thing I was craving for was tomatoes, his face split into a smile – his first I've seen since you left – and then he started crying like a lost kid in the market who's found his mother again, then he hugged me by my stomach and promised our baby that "Lovino-oji" will never let her and her Mama come to harm. I hope I see him again after the dust settles.

Everyone's visited us at least twice even though the Legion's been really busy these last months. Nat commented one day that our child wasn't just mine and yours – she was _everybody's_. Everyone who'd died, everyone who could no longer fight, everyone who was still fighting, because if we made it through the war free, she would be the one to make everything we've ever went through worth it. I almost cried with that but I hugged him to me instead.

I noticed I've been saying "she" this whole time. Of course it's impossible to know a baby's gender until it's out, but I have a feeling it's going to be a girl, Nan. Everyday, she grows stronger and kicks around when I'm feeling most relaxed and I sing to her (I think more out of discomfort than joy – you're the one with the good voice, not me, and I hope she gets that from you). She's active around company, reacting to new voices and touches and music. When I'm sad, she knows, because that's when she squirms around to remind me I'm not alone and we have each other, and no matter what happens, that would never change. But I do not know if the world she'll live in would be a free one that would allow for such wishful thinking to actually occur – if the world doesn't end before she begins.

I am no longer afraid, Nan. My fears have long disappeared ever since I learned I have your child. Now I am just sad that if she isn't born into the world she deserves – well, I don't think I could stand that sort of pain.

I am tired, Nan. I hope I could feel your presence with me, with _us, _before life as we know it crumbles to the ground.

I could no longer find it in my heart to hate you.

I love you.

* * *

Nan,

She has your hair, the shape of your face and smile, she has my complexion, slightly cattish ears and nose. And her eyes – they're yours and as beautiful as the ocean on a calm, clear day.

Our household, Gilbert with his missing leg, recovering Matthew, and Peter, temporarily living with us much to Nat's delight, have already settled down on the beach with Lovi assigned to protect us. Once the others have finished cleaning up the inside of the Walls, they'll be resigning and creating a full-fledged neighborhood with us.

Her name is Antonia, after you. I've been showing her our pictures and her favorite is our Squad's, the one where you forced everyone to make crazy faces – she'd point at it and laugh and put the frame in her mouth like she was trying to kiss you and her uncles. She loves tomatoes and smears it all over her face when Lovi feeds her; she likes waffles and tulips are her favorite flowers and somehow – I don't know _how _she does it – she finds a way to turn my bills into chewed-up wads of cash even though I make it a point that my wallet is always out of her reach. I'm yet to find the time to buy chocolate back Inside for churros but I have a feeling those would be her favorite too.

I've moved into my own house with Lovi to give the newlyweds privacy (we've semi-adopted the kids and have three weeks to go before sending them back – Lovi acts pissed, but I know he likes it.). I bake bread and pastries for everybody and in return they give us fish and gathered fruits and help take care of Ann. When the civilians begin their own exploring, I plan on running an inn for them to rest and eat in if they just plan on stopping by for the sea.

One day, I'm going to teach Ann how to use the gear so that everytime she flies, she experiences the same joy and freedom you and our friends have experienced. I think she would like that very much but for now, she's yet to take her first steps but that's okay. We have all the time in the world.

Today I took her swimming for the first time (I held her head high to keep her from drinking the water), and five minutes into the water, she stopped laughing all of a sudden and stared at the horizon. I couldn't see anything that might have attracted her attention, but then she just flailed and laughed and pointed and cried: "Papa!"

The stars are brighter here like you kept saying, Antonio. The world is beautiful and life is good.

I love you.

_Your Emma_

_fin_

* * *

_Neckel _is a Rin's choice out of the fan names for Luxembourg and _Anatolie _is my chosen name for Moldova. Rin's chosen name for Belgium out of the names Himapapa has listed is_ Emma._

This was supposed to be a real short thing but I lost control okay. The _Little Men-ish_ nicknames are NOT intentional - I just figured out that's what happened when I finished.


End file.
